Mend
by Infinity Blue
Summary: Mimi and Roger's relationship is on shaky ground, Mark and Maureen spend some quality time together. This story is not done yet! I apologize if the words are all jumbled together, I'm still trying to figure out how to work this site ;)
1. Mimi

Mimi  
  
I don't know what made me do it. I awoke that morning to hear Roger's raspy snoring beside me. I gazed down at his sleeping face, and kissed him silently on the lips before I slid out of the bed.  
  
Barefoot, I crept into the small living room that took up most of my inexcusable apartment. I slid my hand underneath one of the couch cushions, in which I had a small bag of powder hidden for a few weeks. The familiar waxy texture of the small white bag between my thumb and forefinger was not foreign to me. Holding it made me feel powerful, and at the same time weak and vulnerable. All I needed was the courage to use it. But how could I betray myself, betray Roger, who was in the next room, sound asleep?  
  
I stared down at the object in my hand, trembling. How was it possible to be afraid of such a small thing? That was it, I decided; I couldn't do it. I started towards the bathroom, preparing to flush the bag down the toilet, when I heard the floorboards creak. Before I even glanced up, I knew it was Roger.  
  
"Mimi," he said my name quietly, almost in a sincere, forgiving way.  
  
I refused to meet his eyes, ashamed. Roger has always been so gentle with me, and always forgiving. Which was why I was so taken aback when he rushed toward me, with an infuriated look in his eyes. 


	2. Roger

Roger  
  
At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. This couldn't be Mimi, not my Mimi. She had vowed never to interact with any sort of drug after we almost lost her last Christmas Eve. She had lied to me. Didn't she care about what the consequences could be?  
  
"Mimi," I said softly, surprised at how calm I sounded.  
  
She stared at the floor, the bag of powder held gingerly in her fingers. She then looked up at me, glaring reproachfully. I had just caught her with a bag of stash, and she was angry at ME? Angrily, I stormed towards her, preparing to pry it from her fingers. Surprised, she backed up against the wall, frightened. I grabbed her arm firmly, but she wouldn't let go. Finally, with a quick jerk of my wrist, I tore it roughly from her hand, as she let out a small cry of pain. I stormed into the bathroom, and flushed the stash down the toilet. I glanced at the mirror on my way out, and was surprised by how formidable I looked. My hair was all disheveled, as I had just gotten out of bed, and my face was red with anger. I quickly splashed cold water onto my face and went back into the living room, where I found Mimi on the floor, leaning against the wall. Even though she had her head facing the other way, I knew she was crying. She was cradling her wrist in her other arm. She seemed so small and vulnerable, wearing nothing but one of my old T-Shirts. All of my anger faded away.  
  
"Mimi," I whispered as I crept over to her. She glanced up at me, tearfully.  
  
"Mimi, I'm so sorry.I don't know why I reacted like that, I.I'm so sorry." I gathered her into my arms and held her.  
  
"Roger.," she whispered, through tears, "I think my wrist is broken."  
  
I then realized that she hadn't been crying because of the way I had reacted. Her face was grimaced in pain. She held her arm out towards me. She was right. Her hand was twisted at an odd angle. Nausea ripped through my stomach. I had injured her.  
  
"Mimi, let me see," I said gently. I touched her hand gently, trying to feel if the bone was broken and she whimpered in pain.  
  
"It'll have to be put in a cast," I said, feeling sick. "God, Mimi, I'm so sorry, I never meant."  
  
I was glad that she had her face buried against my shoulder. That way she wouldn't see that I was starting to get teary myself.  
  
"You broke her wrist???"  
  
That was the first thing Mark said when I told him what had happened the next day. We were sitting on an old rusty bench in Central Park.  
  
"No, it's just sprained but, oh, god, Mark, I feel horrible. All I was trying to do was keep her from hurting herself, and I just ended up hurting has just as much."  
  
"You did what you should have done," Mark said calmly, pushing his glasses back up, as they kept sliding down the bridge of his nose. "If I had seen her with the stash, I would have done the same. It was just an accident, Roger. I'm sure she knows that."  
  
"I don't know," I mumbled miserably, "You should have seen the way she was looking at me."  
  
"She was probably shook up. If I know you well- and I do, I know that you're the most non-violent boyfriend.in New York City, at least." He jiggled his knee, bouncing his camera up and down.  
  
"Where is she right now?"  
  
"Maureen's place. As soon as I had called Maureen to tell her what happened, she'd pulled out an old box of all sorts of decorations out of her bedroom, and she had convinced Mimi to let her glue sequins and glitter onto her cast."  
  
"She's been really lonely lately," said Mark. "Ever since Joanne moved out she's been sort of.off."  
  
I knew what he meant. Not that Maureen wasn't always a little 'off,' but lately she's been more mellow and quiet. It seemed that all of her friends were suddenly leaving. First there was Angel's death, then Benny, who really wasn't considered a friend was relocated by his wife, Alison. Collins had left temporarily, and was currently vacationing in New Mexico. A postcard titled, 'Greetings from Sunny Santa Fe" was tacked up on the refrigerator in Mark and my apartment.  
  
"How's she taking it?" I asked.  
  
"Well, considering that SHE'S the one who started the fight in the first place." Mark trailed off. "It's weird. You'd think that she's happy that Joanne's gone now, the way they'd been at it at each other for weeks. But she's just been really depressed lately."  
  
"That's too bad. Are you doing anything with her later?" I asked, thankful to change the subject for a little while.  
  
"I'm taking her to the Life Café tonight, you know, to get her out of the house." He fiddled with some of the buttons on the camera.  
  
"That's good," I said, flatly. The air was silent for a few moments, except for the sound of Mark's foot jiggling up and down on the floor.  
  
"I get back home to Mimi, shouldn't I?"  
  
Mark picked up his camera. "Close on Roger- he can't decide how to handle his own relationship."  
  
"SHOULD I?" I asked again, angrily, swatting the camera away with my hand.  
  
Sheepishly, he lowered the camera.  
  
"You and Mimi need to talk things out. Mend your relationship while  
you still can." He sighed. "At least you have someone who cares about  
you as much as you do them."  
  
"Mark, you know there's plenty of people who care about you." He looked at me cynically.  
  
"You're a very likeable guy," I pushed.  
  
"Okay. You should get back to Mimi." He picked up his camera and started to film a group of pigeons.  
  
"I'll see you later."  
  
"Bye," he said, not looking up from the camera.  
  
I zipped up my jacket and shoved my hands inside the pockets and headed back to the loft. 


	3. Mark

Mark  
  
As I walked down the hall to Maureen's apartment, I thought about what Roger had said about me earlier. I had a few words that I can pull out of my vocabulary to describe myself, and likeable wasn't one of them. Annoying maybe, but not likeable. I knocked on Maureen's door and polished my camera lens with the back of my sleeve while I waited. The door swung wide open, revealing a surprisingly cheerful Maureen.  
  
"Notice anything different about me?" she asked, smiling.  
  
I looked her up and down, confused.  
  
"Ummm.you got a haircut?  
  
"Nope!" she chirped, "Guess again!"  
  
"Er." I looked down at her feet. "You got new shoes?"  
  
She shook her head vigorously.  
  
"Alright, I give up, what is it?" I exclaimed, exasperated.  
  
"I'm single!" she sang, hooking her arm through mine. "C'mon Marky, let's go have a night on the town!"  
  
Slightly amused, I allowed myself to be dragged downstairs and walked to the Life Café.  
  
Later, I was sitting across from Maureen in a stuffy little booth, pondering over untouched Jueros Rancheros, as Maureen forked Sashimi into her mouth. Ever since the protest she had made to stop the abuse of animals, she avoided anything that at one time had fur, feathers, or was featured in the song, 'Old McDonald."  
  
"Maureen?"  
  
"Mmm?" she replied, swallowing a piece of raw fish.  
  
"I don't mean to pry, but.you seem a bit more cheerful than usual.  
  
"How do you mean?" she asked, innocently.  
  
"I mean, last week when Joanne moved out, you were really depressed and refused to even leave your apartment. What changed that?"  
  
"Marky," she said, fiddling with her chopsticks, "I've decided to turn over a new leaf. Joanne was holding me back. Whenever I wanted to do something, she would do everything in her power to hold me back. She thought she was better than me- the ignorant, disgusting, REPULSIVE, unbelievable NERVE of her!" With every syllable she stabbed at the raw fish on her plate with her chopsticks.  
  
"Maureen, jeez, calm down!" I placed a hand over hers to save the already deceased fish.  
  
".And I'm happy that I finally have some freedom, but." she paused.  
  
"But what?" I prodded.  
  
"Well, just a small part of me sort of wishes that she could come back.a BIG part of me, actually." She glanced at me, sheepishly. "I mean, she could be a bitch sometimes, I admit, but she was a GREAT lover!"  
  
I could feel the tips of my ears turning red.  
  
"So you're really NOT okay," I said. It wasn't a question, it was a fact.  
  
"I know," she sighed. "I just don't know what to do."  
  
I picked up my camera from my lap and zoomed in on Maureen's face.  
  
"Close on Maureen, who's dominating lover left her, and now she wants her back."  
  
"Marky!" she gasped, laughing, "Stop!"  
  
She tried to duck down under the table to hide from the camera, but I  
only went down after her and soon we were both under the table,  
laughing like morons. We got a lot of weird looks from the other  
customers.  
  
"Mark," Maureen whispered after a few moments, "I miss you."  
  
We stared at each other, unsure of what to do then. Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder.  
  
"Sir, if you and your friend do not stop, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're disturbing the other customers."  
  
I apologized, while Maureen giggled loudly.  
  
"I guess we'd better go," I said, helping her up from under the table.  
  
Later, I was back at the loft. Alone. Again. Roger was rarely here anymore, he was usually over at Mimi's.  
  
I sat between my camera and a cardboard box of old reels of film that went back to last Christmas. I sorted through them, and plucked a few out of the box at random.  
  
"Maureen's Performance," "Today 4 U: Proof Positive," were some of the titles that leapt out at me.  
  
With nothing else to do, I took out the finished reel out of my camera and slipped it into the projector. Roger and I used to have a wall, but we had sold it to pay Benny back for paying for Angel's funeral. I flipped the switch on the projector, and familiar faces popped up in front of me against the wall.  
  
The first clip showed Mimi and Roger. Roger as swinging Mimi around in his arms, and she screeched and tried to squirm away. Then it skipped to a clip of Mimi, sticking out her tongue, then another of Roger strumming out a random tune on his fender guitar. Then, a clip of Angel sitting on a table in the life café, her legs crossed, smiling seductively and waving at someone unseen. Then, Collins strutted over to her and Angel hopped onto his lap The last clip was the one taken earlier, of Maureen at the Life Café. Her head was tilted back, and she was laughing gaily. Then the picture lowered under the table to show her giggling madly, and trying to escape from the camera lens.  
  
As I watched Maureen on the projector, I remember what she's said to me under the table. "I miss you, Mark."  
  
Feeling a cold lump in my throat, I whispered, "I miss you too." 


	4. Mimi2

Mimi  
  
"Roger, where are we going?"  
  
"If I tell you, it won't be much of a surprise, will it?" he replied, teasingly. "Keep your eyes closed, and just walk with me."  
  
He held my good hand in his, and slowly I walked forward with my eyes shut, wondering what he could possibly be up to.  
  
"Okay, you've got to step over something right here, hold onto my arm and just stick your foot out."  
  
"Roger."  
  
"Just trust me," he insisted.  
  
"You're going to like this."  
  
Even those I couldn't see him, I knew he was smiling. I stuck out my  
leg as he had instructed and stepped over whatever it was in front of  
me. It was when  
  
I felt the cool night air on my face, and heard the clanging  
noises are feet were making on the ground, that I began to get  
scared.  
  
"Shit, Roger, we're on the fire escape, aren't we?"  
  
"You'll see," he said in a playful voice, holding his arms around my waist protectively.  
  
"There's a few steps in front of you, so just start walking slowly. I'm right here next to you, you're fine."  
  
Was he insane? We were on the fire escape, and I was wandering around with my eyes closed!  
  
"Roger," I whispered, grasping for his hand, "Are you DRUNK?"  
  
He laughed. "C'mon Meems, we're almost there."  
  
My feet were glued to the rusty metal floor of the fire escape. Finally, Roger picked me up in his arms and carried me the rest of the way up.  
  
"Okay," he said, setting me down on the ground. "Open your eyes."  
  
Slowly, my eyelids opened. We were on the rooftop of my apartment, where Roger had a red and white checkered picnic blanket spread out on the cold granite, and Roger's fender guitar was laid on the ground beside it.  
  
I gaped at what I saw. I'd never known Roger to be such a romantic. He clearly noticed my surprise.  
  
"I know it doesn't seem like something I would usually think up," he  
said, embarrassed. "But I felt I had to find a way to make up for what  
happened," he said, gesturing at my cast. "But it was the first thing  
that came to mind, so I just sort of whipped all this out from my  
closet."  
  
"You had that your closet?" I asked, amused.  
  
He blushed. "Well actually, that blanket it the one Maureen used as a cape for her Animals Rights protest.but that candle lit over there, that's the one you were holding when we first met."  
  
I followed his gaze, and sure enough, there was that short stubby white candle that I had 'blown out' when I'd first met him.  
  
"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly.  
  
I shook my head, laughing. "Roger, I don't like it- I LOVE it." I stood on tip toes to give him a peck on the cheek.  
  
We sat down on the blanket, where Roger picked up his guitar and started playing songs at random.  
  
I watched him silently, as his lower lip curved as he tried to find the right note.  
  
"Mimi," he said suddenly, putting the guitar down.  
  
"Why did you have the stash in your hand?"  
  
I had known this was coming.  
  
"I'm not sure," I admitted.  
  
"Once you start doing that kind of stuff, you get a certain feeling of power out of it. That morning, when I woke up.I felt a need for that feeling, Rodge. I felt like if I didn't at least hold it, I would just waste away. I can't explain it, there aren't words to describe what made me do it."  
  
"I understand," Roger said quietly.  
  
I looked up into his face. "You do?"  
  
"When I was with April, she did that sort of stuff too. I remember how badly she would crave the stuff, but I'd always hide it from her, and throw it out when I could. She'd yell at me and say I was wasting her money and that if I loved her I would let her do what she wanted."  
  
He sighed, and fiddled around with his guitar pick.  
  
"She knew as well as I did that she was slowly killing herself, and I just didn't know how to deal with it. A few weeks later, she found out that we were HIV positive, and she killed herself."  
  
He looked down into my eyes. "Mimi, when I saw you standing there, holding that stash so casually, it was like what I'd gone through with April all over again. I've managed to get over April, and live with my grief.but if I lost you, Mimi, I think it'd kill me."  
  
I bit my lip, and held his hand in mine.  
  
"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday.I just lost it when I saw you. I never meant to hurt you."  
  
He traced his fingers over the cast on my wrist, which was bumpy and grainy from all the rhinestones and glitter Maureen had glued to it.  
  
"I know," I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder. "I promised you that I would never do anything like that again, but Roger.It's hard."  
  
"You can do it," he said firmly. "I'll help you."  
  
He kissed me gently on the lips. He pushed a strand of hair back behind my ear, and soon I was all but oblivious to everything except the roar of the traffic below us, and Roger whispering in my ear. 


	5. Roger2

Roger  
  
I had never told Mimi about April before. She knew that she had died after she found out we had AIDS, but I'd never told her anything beyond that. I was embarrassed talking about it; I'd never even shared any of this with Mark. But the look in Mimi's eyes as she listened intently to what I was saying told me she understood.  
  
April didn't think that she'd make it. And she hadn't. Mimi doesn't think she can make it. But I'm not going to give up on her. I'm going to help her get through this, or I'll die trying.  
  
We lay down on the cool granite, covered by nothing but Maureen's picnic blanket. Mimi was asleep. I turned over on my side and gazed at her. I traced my finger through her tangly brunette curls, over her closed eyelids, over her lips that were pursed into an 'O' shape as her chest rose and fell. I ran my finger down her leg to a run in her stocking, and paused. Mimi's eye's slowly opened, and she gazed up at me, dreamily.  
  
"Rodge?" she said in a groggy voice.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Don't know," I said, leaning in for another kiss. "Don't care."  
  
She smiled, and then the smile turned into a yawn as she fell back asleep. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I buried my face into her hair, and soon I too was asleep, lulled by the honking and screeching of the cars below us. I knew things were going to be okay. 


	6. Mark2

Mark  
  
In the middle of the night, I was awoken by a sharp knocking at the front door.  
  
Flipping on the lamp beside my bed, I squinted sleepily at the little alarm clock on the stand beside me bed. It was almost Midnight.  
  
The sharp rapping continued.  
  
"Jesus H. Christ, Roger," I grumbled as I reached for my glasses.  
  
Holding them lazily in my hand, I stumbled blindly to the door, nearly tripping over Roger's guitar case.  
  
I fumbled with the doorknob, and finally it creaked open.  
  
"Roger, for God sakes, it's midnight," I complained, smothering a yawn.  
  
But It wasn't Roger. It was Maureen.  
  
"Hi Mark," she said, uncertainly.  
  
"I know it's really late.I've been thinking about the time we had tonight, and well.without Joanne with me, I'm lonely."  
  
She shuffled her feet on the wooden floor, embarrassed.  
  
"Wanna stay here?" I offered, half-awake.  
  
Surprised, she looked up at me.  
  
"Actually, that was the next thing I was going to say.Are you sure it wouldn't be any trouble, I mean, I don't want to be a hassle for you and Roger, but I just though."  
  
I watched her lips moving rapidly, but I could no longer hear the words that were coming out of them.  
  
I don't know if it was the fact that I was barely awake, or the fact that Maureen looked so terrific, even though under her threadbare coat, all she had on were here pajamas and slippers, but while she was talking incoherently, I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, quieting her temporarily.  
  
"Mark," she exclaimed, pulling away, "We can't."  
  
"Why?" I replied, coming in for another kiss.  
  
"Because," she started, turning her head so my lips landed on her cheek,"Because.because we've already been through this before, and it didn't turn out good. Because Joanne might come back."  
  
"Maureen," I said, almost pleadingly, "I've been wanting to do this for a long time. I love you."  
  
I was now fully awake.  
  
"Besides, I think if we give ourselves another chance, we can make it work."  
  
She still looked uncertain.  
  
"Give into love, or live in fear," I said softly.  
  
A small smile broke through the worried look on her face.  
  
"You really think that things can go back to the way they were with us?" she asked.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"And I'm not reading allowed from one of my crappy scripts either. I'm talking straight from my heart."  
  
I remembered how my unique little one-liners used to win her over. I leaned in to kiss her again, and this time, she was acceptant.  
  
"I've been wanting this for a long time too," she admitted.  
  
"Well," I said wickedly, "I'd love to stay and chat out here in the doorway, but I am dead tired, and I must get back to my bedroom before I collapse."  
  
"Mind if I join you?" she asked, grinning.  
  
I took her arm in mine and walked towards the bedroom with her.  
  
"I don't see why not," I said, letting the door close gently behind me.  
  
Maureen is right. There's a chance that someday Joanne will come back to her, threatening to replace me. But I can't think about that right now.  
  
I have to hold onto what I have. And at the moment, all I have are my friends, and my camera.  
  
But that's more than enough.  
  
At least for now.  
  
"In these dangerous times, were it seems that the world is ripping at the seams, we all can learn how to survive from those who face death squarely in the face every day and we should reach out to each other and bond as a community, rather than hide from the terrors or life at the end of the millennium." ~Jonathan Larson 


End file.
